"Now, then, Saint Giles!" interposed Sheppard, "are we to be kept here all night?" "Eh day!" exclaimed Sharples: "wot new-fledged bantam's this?" "One that wants to go to roost," replied Sheppard. Wood fared still worse. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. "Answer me one question first?" he said; "I half suspect you're Jack Sheppard.
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